Earlier Games
by IAmYourArchnemisis
Summary: Clover is chosen for the 63rd Hunger Games.
1. The Reaping

*One*

I feel nervous. Today's the day. Today's the Reaping, where the tributes will be chosen for the Hunger Games.

I brush the snarls out of my shoulder-length black hair. Then I wash my face and put on my faded pink skirt and white blouse. My special-occasion shoes are torn, but they're the best I have. My twin brother, Seed, is also wearing his best clothes. He and I look like most people from our part of District 11: dark skin and hair, strong from working in the orchards and fields. Here, everybody works, even the children.

Aunt Finch watches us. We've lived with her since our parents died when we were six, and she's like our mother. She's too old to be in the Reaping, but will come with us anyway for support.

We walk into town at noon. Banners bearing the Capitol seal hang from every visible surface. Cameramen film from rooftops and out of windows. A huge crowd is here. The teenagers standing in their age groups fill most of the space; adults and children stand off to the sides. Peacekeepers, the soldiers who enforce the laws, watch from guard-towers and stand around the youth.

Seed and I go to stand wit the other fifteen-year-olds near the middle. Most of them look as if they're about to throw up. I'm sure I do, too. I look to the stage constructed in front of the Justice Building. Chairs are set up for the past Hunger Games victors, the mayor, and Fuchsia Goldbud, the lady who hosts the Reaping in our District every year.

The mayor stands up to the microphone to give his usual speech about our history: How North America became smaller as the seas overflowed onto the land until there weren't enough resources for everyone. Wars started, and much was destroyed. Out of the ruins rose the nation of Panem, a beautiful Capitol surrounded by thirteen Districts. Eventually the Districts became ungrateful of everything the Capitol gave them. The Districts rebelled and started the Dark Days. In the end, the Capitol could not be beaten. They overtook twelve Districts and eliminated the thirteenth. The Hunger Games were created so that the Districts would not forget.

The Hunger Games are punishment for us. A boy and a girl between the ages twelve and eighteen would be sent from each District to an outdoor arena to fight to the death with the nation watching. We all hate it, but the evil Capitol people treat it like it's a holiday. I know all of that about the Districts being ungrateful couldn't be true. Today, we're starving and abused.

Fuchsia Goldbud stands as the mayor returns to his seat. She looks like a freak, but compared to most people from the Capitol, she's pretty normal. She has wild black hair and black lipstick to match, a fluffy purple feather boa, purple eyelashes, and tall black heels. She lacks the surgical alterations most Capitol people have.

In her strange, high-pitched accent, she says, "Welcome, all! Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

The woman smiles warmly at the grim faces in the crowd. She clicks over in her heels to the two glass Reaping balls filled with thousands of names on slips of paper. First she draws a girl's name. The crowd is still.

Fuchsia reads the name on the slip she chose."Clover Brunhild."

That's my name.

**Please review chapter one! It would make me happy.**

**-Eliza**


	2. Goodbyes

Heads turn towards me as I walk stiffly up to the stage. Nobody volunteers to take my place. I don't expect them to. I wouldn't either, if I were them.

I am now a tribute in the sixty-third Hunger Games.

Fuchsia calls out the male tribute, a tall seventeen-year-old named Sprout Silverring. We shake hands on her instruction, and then are herded into the Justice Building by Peacekeepers. One of them orders me to stay in the dusty room they take me to.

My loved ones (just Seed, Aunt Finch, and my friend Skye) are allowed a short time to say goodbye. We hug and cry. I know I will probably never see them again. There will be bigger, stronger tributes, especially the Careers, tributes from District 1, 2 and 4. They're the Districts that are wealthier and better fed. They almost love the Games and begin training for them when they're little, although it's technically illegal. I could be taken down easily by a twelve-year-old Career, that's how dangerous they are.

Sprout and I are driven in a black car (I've never been in one) out of the District, past the guard-towers and barbed-wire fences, the trees and fields of grain. We board the train that will take us to the Capitol. It runs 250 miles per hour. It'll arrive by tomorrow.

On the train I eat the biggest and most magnificent meal I've ever seen, a meal that probably costs more than my house: Roast chicken, potatoes, rolls, vegetables, fruit, and stuffing, and for dessert, pie and chocolate cake. I go to bed sick but full.

**Okay, this is the new chapter. Reviews are awesome and you will never be cool unless you review this story.**

**-Eliza**


	3. The Tribute's Parade

The next day we arrive into the Capitol as I'm eating a muffin for breakfast. Bright-colored buildings tower into the sky past the clouds. Cars race back and forth in the streets. Strange Capitol people with dyed skin, tattoos, and layers of makeup point excitedly as the train pulls in.

I'm in the Remake Center. The Remake Center is where the tributes go to look camera-worthy for the Tribute Parade later, which will be broadcast on national television. The better I look, the easier it will be to get sponsors. My mentor, a past victor named Apple Cloudhaze, told me that sponsors are rich Capitol citizens who donate money to buy supplies for their favorite tribute when they're in the Games.

The prep team has cut my hair into a short, boyish style they say is called a pixie. They cover my face with makeup. They're able to make scars from years of working in the orchard seem to disappear completely. Lovinia, the tiny woman who is my stylist, shows me the costume I will wear to represent my District: baggy overalls with a green shirt to go underneath, boots, and a leafy head-wreath. It's ugly and unoriginal. I have to remind myself that I'm here to fight, not have a beauty contest.

In the Tribute Parade, we ride in our chariot pulled by two brown horses behind all of the other Districts' chariots except for 12's. We do a circle around the city square as the watching crowd cheers. The chariots stop in front of President Snow's mansion, where he gives a speech I don't pay attention to. After he's done, the horses pull us into the Training Center, where we will live until the Games.

I fall asleep in my new bed immediately. I wake up the next day and am sent to training.

**Yes, sorry, short chapters. Bear with me here.**

**-Eliza**


	4. Ash

Training is in a room filled with weapons, obstacle courses, and instructors. A man named Italus gathers all of us tributes together and warns us not to fight each other. Then we go our separate ways.

I'm not sure where to start. I don't think I'm skilled with weapons. I've used a machete before at work, but I don't think that counts me as being skilled. I can climb and I'm strong, both useful things in the arena.

I go over to the fire starting station. The woman who teaches there shows me how to start a fire with flint and steel. She leaves me on my own to practice.

A smallish girl with reddish brown hair sits down next to me. She looks about thirteen. I try to ignore her.

"Hi," she says.

'Hi!?' We're about to fight to the death and she says 'hi?' I continue to ignore her.

"I'm Ash," she says. "And you're Clover?"

I nod. I hadn't even bothered to learn any of the other tributes' names besides Sprout.

Ash stays with me for the rest of the day, and for the next two days of training, too. I sincerely hope that she doesn't want to be my ally in the arena. Her District is 5, the power plant District. The people there don't learn to work until they're eighteen. She's noisy, can't run fast, and isn't very good at any of the stations we come to. I try to seem noncommittal, but she can't take a hint. The Careers don't pay much attention to me, which I am grateful for. I learn most of their names. The girl and boy from 1 are Star and Glow. They're deadly, even though they have such wimpy names. Star has amazing aim with a bow. The monstrous boy from 2 is Axle, but I'm not sure what the girl's name is, but she is excellent with a sword. Pherick is the boy from 4, and again, I don't know the girl's name.


	5. Score

The fourth day is individual sessions, where we show the Gamemakers- the people who plan the Games- what we can do. I climb and attack a dummy with a machete. It wasn't very well-planned and I probably looked weird, but it was what I could think of.

After dinner we see on television how the Gamemakers rated us on a scale of one to twelve. Nobody has gotten a twelve before, or even an eleven, I think. The Careers rate between eight and ten. Ash gets a five. Although Sprout is big and strong, he gets only a seven. My face appears on the screen with a nine.

Nine! Wow. I was expecting a six or seven. My mentor Apple, my stylist Lovinia, and even Sprout's mentor congratulate me. Sprout goes to his room and slams the door. What a baby.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, welcome!" says Ceasar Fickerman, the man who hosts the tributes' interviews the night before the Games. He's odd looking, with a suit covered in electric twinkle-lights. Every year, he's a different color. What I mean is that this year, he has purple eyeshadow and hair.

One by one the tributes go up for their interviews. The Careers seem fierce. Ash talks and barely leaves Ceasar time to ask questions. Surprisingly, she actually seems charming and cute in her pink dress. Sprout comes across as whiny and unlikeable, but maybe that's just me.

On my turn, I try not to look nervous and keep a serious face. I'm in a green gown with a leaf pattern. Apple told me to seem smart and tough to scare the Careers and get sponsors. I try my best. The crowd seems to like me. They scream as loud, if not louder, as they did when the Careers were up. My score in training must have impressed them.

**Sorry if this story seems a bit dry. I wrote it for school in a rush and had to keep it appropriate (besides the killing!). Thank you anyways to the people who are sticking with it.**

**-Eliza**


	6. Let the Games Begin

I get little sleep. It's hard to stop thinking of the coming day. This year's arena is unknown to anyone but the Gamemakers. It could be snow, a desert, a forest, anything. Hopefully I trained at the right stations.

I'm taken on a private hovercraft to the labyrinth under the arena. A Capitol official injects a tracker into my arm (I try not to watch) so that they won't lose me in the arena. Lovinia helps me into my clothes: a green short-sleeved shirt, brown trousers, a windbreaker, and boots.

I step into a glass tube. It raises me into the arena.

It's warm up here, about seventy-five degrees. The giant golden Cornucopia- a metal horn that appears in every Hunger Games filled with supplies- stands on the pebbly ground with all twenty-four of us tributes standing around it. About ten feet behind me is a rushing river. We're in a forest of tall evergreens.

A voice says through a microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the sixty-third Hunger Games begin!"


	7. Cornucopia

The countdown from sixty has started. When it reaches zero, we can leave our places. I scan the ground. The closest item to me is a black waterproof bag. I decide to take that and get out before anyone can notice me. My heart is pounding. I have never been more scared in my entire life.

The gong sounds and the chaos begins. Most of the tributes run to grab supplies from the Cornucopia. The Careers are among the first and immediately start taking down other tributes. A few run away into the trees. I run forward to grab the black bag. It's not very heavy. As I lift it up, the District 2 girl sees me. She looks as if she's going to come after me with her newly acquired sword. I stumble backward and fall into the river. The current carries me away from the girl and the Cornucopia. I clutch my bag and thank my lucky stars its waterproof.

I get out of the river after ten minutes of riding the current. The water was freezing. I look in my bag to see if there are any matches. The bag contains a black blanket, an empty bottle, water purifying tablets, and a large book of matches. I light a fire to dry off. I dig up a handful of roots and roast those. I put out the fire.

I hike all day, snacking on my roots as I go. I stay near the river for a water source. Midway through the day a cannon fires thirteen times, signifying the deaths of tributes at the Cornucopia. I don't see anyone else and assume that I'm alone. I settle down for the night in some bushes. The national anthem begins to play and the faces of the dead tributes appear in the sky. The girl from 4 died, and so did Sprout. I feel bad that Sprout died, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. There's only one victor. Ash made it, surprisingly, since I saw her running to the Cornucopia.


	8. New Ally

The next day as I'm hiking I hear a twig crack. I duck behind a tree.

"It's okay, Clover, it's me."

"Ash?" I say, surprised. "How did you find me?"

"I'm good at that," she said simply.

I look at her for a minute. She was able to sneak up on me. That could be useful... Still, I don't know if I want her as an ally.

She pulls something out from behind a tree. "I brought you this. I figured you would need it."

Ash holds a machete out to me. I take it in my hands. "You did this for me?" I say, confused.

"Yeah. Now we can be allies," Ash responds.

I do not understand her at all, but I agree to be her ally. I gather more roots and berries and we have a fire before we begin hiking again. We walk for the rest of the day. We find a thick patch of bushes to sleep in at night. The anthem plays, but no faces are in the sky tonight. The Gamemakers won't like that.

When we wake and begin hiking the next day, we see something odd. A few ducks waddle near the river bank. They have specks of purple in their feathers. A goose honks at one. The purple-specked duck spits in the goose's eye, and the goose sways. It drops to the ground.

"No way. A poisonous duck?!" I whisper. I don't want the ducks to come our way. The ducks are muttations, or mutts, genetically enhanced animals. They appear in every Games, but usually they're more impressive than this, like a climbing wolf pack or something like that.

We steer clear of the ducks and go through the forest. The cannon goes off three times as the sun goes down.

**191 views so far.**

**-Eliza**


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